


numb

by thechosenpen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Cries, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Scott McCall, Post-Allison's Death, Post-Episode: s03e23 Insatiable, Scallison, Sciles, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles POV, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechosenpen/pseuds/thechosenpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has seen almost every side there is to his best friend. But Stiles has never seen Scott like this. He has never seen Scott so numb.  - Set after 3x23</p>
            </blockquote>





	numb

Stiles has never seen Scott like this before. The two of them have gone through a lot together over their long friendship. They’ve dealt with failed lacrosse games, strict parents, alpha werewolves, kanimas, girls, Coach’s harassment, Derek Hale’s wrath, the list is endless. 

Scott was there when Stiles lost his mom. Stiles was there when Scott’s dad walked out. They’ve shared a lot of grief over the years. They’ve laughed together, they’ve screamed together, they’ve shouted together and they have shed tears together. Stiles held Scott’s hand as he learned to deal with his asthma. In turn Scott has been there for nearly every panic attack, a reassuring hand on his shoulder to anchor Stiles to reality.  Stiles was conscious, despite Scott’s hope that he wasn’t, of the twist of the sword in his own hand as he inflicted pain on his best friend. Scott has watched in despair, unable to do anything, as Stiles was slowly consumed by the darkness in his mind. They have both been there for almost every moment together, despite all the odds pulling them apart.

 

Stiles has seen almost every side there is to his best friend.

 

But Stiles has never seen Scott like this. 

 

He has never seen Scott so numb. 

 

It’s been hours since the chaos went down. Everything feels like a bit of a blur for Stiles, mostly because he was only semi-conscious for most of it. But he was awake enough to hear Lydia’s screams, even if he couldn’t make his body react. He didn’t have any energy to do anything besides listen to her, praying that he was only imagining the angst in her voice and what it meant. He was pretty sure he passed out sometime between Lydia collapsing against him and his dad stumbling towards him with eyes full of despair. He wonders if he should consider himself lucky that he didn’t have to see the tragedy that lay outside. Hearing Lydia’s scream was confirmation enough and although he and Allison were never as close as they should have been, he doesn’t think he could have coped with seeing her lifeless in Scott’s arms. 

When he is finally resting back at Scott’s house - it seems to have become the meeting point for the pack now - with Melissa giving him a quiet check over on the couch, he finds the energy to look across the room to Scott. 

 Scott is sitting in front of the staircase, staring at a dent in the floorboards. Stiles knows what that dent is. He remembers. It looks like Scott knows now too. So Mr McCall finally came clean. Part of Stiles is glad that Mr McCall finally explained his actions, but the other part of him aches knowing that Scott’s pain seems to have no end. Melissa is too distracted with making sure that Stiles is okay to notice her son, and Stiles diverts his eyes away in case she figures it out. She doesn’t need to add that conversation to the weight of today.

 Stiles manages to nod to her soft questions and finally she seems satisfied with his physical well being for now. When she finally gets up and heads back into the kitchen to talk quietly to his dad, Stiles lets his eyes trail back to Scott. He hasn’t moved. 

“Scott.”

 Stiles waits. No response. It occurs to Stiles in the back of his mind that perhaps whispering into the next room isn’t the best idea. It occurs to Stiles immediately afterwards that Scott is a werewolf and that issue is therefore irrelevant. 

“Scott?” 

 It takes another three goes before Scott slowly looks up. Even then his eyes don’t quite meet Stiles. Instead his focus sits somewhere slightly left of Stiles. Like eye contact is too much for him. 

 Stiles tries to think of something to say but there is nothing else to say. There is absolutely nothing that he can add. He settles with a slow sigh, wincing slightly as his ribs protest. 

 Scott twitches slightly at the hitch in his breath. After a moment Stiles finds Scott settling onto the couch next to him. He is stiff, tense throughout his entire body. This is so unlike the Scott that Stiles is accustomed to. Then again he is highly aware that he is also far from his old self. They’ve both gone through a lot. Scott has gone through more than anyone Stiles knows. Sure, Stiles has been possessed by a trickster spirit for the last few weeks but he knows that is nothing compared to what Scott has gone through over the last year or so. Is going through. Will go through. 

 There is a heavy silence between them. It feels so thick and unfamiliar in Scott’s presence that it scares Stiles a little. Even when Scott was freaking out over the bite, even after Allison broke up with him, there was never this silence. This silence is new. This Scott is unfamiliar. And Stiles knows why. He knows who. He knows he is partly to blame. Somehow he was a part of this. 

“I’m sor-”

Scott shakes his head once sharply and Stiles is cut off. He waits but Scott doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, staring at the wall, completely still. He is numb. It’s okay. He is grieving and if this is how he copes with the loss of his first love, Stiles will let him be as numb as he needs to be. After a few moments he reaches across and rests a hand on Stiles’ arm, silently taking away some of his pain. Stiles wonders how it is possible for Scott take on anymore pain on top of his own grief. It occurs to him that perhaps this will provide a distraction, so he allows Scott to take away as much as he needs until he is satisfied that Stiles can breathe easy. 

They sit there together, Stiles focusing on settling into a body that feels unfamiliar after being shared for so long, Scott focusing on anything but the thoughts and memories threatening to consume him. He fails.

 

Scott stays numb.

 

 

 

This is how it is for the next few weeks. Stiles manages to recover from the possession and finds that once he resumes taking his medication he feels much more like himself. Damn the nogistune for having zero respect for his body while it took over. 

The funeral is touching and Stiles feels tears pricking in his eyes from the moment he gets out of the car. He feels the shoulder of his jacket gradually getting damper as Lydia shields her face from the casket. He is glad to be a source of strength for her, despite the guilt racking inside him even now. He finds that he can’t quite look Chris Argent in the eye. He doesn’t think Chris notices. Chris is too busy leaning most of his weight on Derek, tears openly flowing. Derek doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the position, his own eyes also glistening. Stiles wonders when they became friends. It was probably recently through teaming up to defeat the nogistune that had hidden inside him, destroying this entire pack. 

Isaac is distraught, hiding in the back corner clutching himself as if by sheer force he can hold himself together. Melissa waits until he has eased in his shaking before sinking into a seat beside the lanky werewolf to wrap a motherly arm around him. Stiles has the courtesy to avert his gaze then as he catches the beginning of Isaac breaking down. He knows that Isaac is drowning in all of the lost possibilities, the ‘what if’s. Isaac and Allison had only just started discussing their feelings and now Isaac has lost her before he even truly had her.

There are a lot of tears shed. 

Scott doesn’t cry. 

 Stiles notices this about half way through the ceremony, glancing over to his left as Lydia straightens up on his right, attempting to calm herself down. Scott is staring straight ahead. He is listening, Stiles knows him well enough to tell that much. But his eyes are dry. He is still stiff, as though his muscles have not been used in months. 

Stiles keeps one eye on him throughout the ceremony, watching for any sign of a reaction. He understands grief. He understands that process far too well and he knows that this is a part of the grieving process, but it worries him all the same. Scott doesn’t seem to notice the concern. 

 

He remains numb. 

 

 

 

 It worries Stiles more when two months pass. It worries Stiles when Scott’s numbness gradually becomes a permanent part of himself. The pack seems slightly lost without their alpha but really Stiles knows there is more. They are all just lost without Allison. She wasn’t the leader but she was a vital part of the pack. She is gone and she has left a hole in her place. This is the time for a leader to step up and pull his pack together, to keep them united and to find a way to mend that hole somehow. Scott is the leader but it feels odd asking someone to lead when he seems to be utterly consumed by this hole. Everyone waits for him. They band together and search for strength within each other. They all keep up the hope that eventually Scott will find a way to regain his strength and power as an alpha and they can find a way to all pick themselves up as a pack.

 They begin to pick themselves up, one by one. Lydia finds a new friend in Kira. It is clear that Kira is not replacing Allison, she is just a new friend. They talk and shop and research the supernatural together. They begin weapon training together with Chris. Chris finds two new daughters in them and everyone shares quiet smiles as they notice the deep lines in his forehead lessening day by day. 

Isaac and Stiles grow closer, acknowledging a sense of respect for each others’ snark and attitude. They watch every version of Star Wars multiple times and spend three solid hours arguing about the benefits and problems of modern remakes. They invite Scott to join them but he declines. Well they assume so. Giving no response when invited is generally perceived to be a decline. So they stick together. They make sure Scott eats food. They make sure his grades keep up. They manage to coax small phrases out of him when necessary. They make very small progress. 

 

Scott begins to function again, but he remains numb. 

 

 

It is exactly four months and three days since the day the pack lost one of its own. It has been four months and three days since Scott lost himself. Since Stiles lost part of his best friend. They are sitting in Scott’s bedroom as they do almost every day. Stiles sprawls out on the floor texting Lydia while pretending to study for calculus. It all seems pretty pointless when he considers what he and his friends has to deal with every day. 

 Scott is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, another habit that Stiles has learned to accept. They don’t talk. They don’t talk much at all anymore. Scott just lies there, breathing in and out. Stiles wonders if he should be doing more for his best friend but he has no clue what to do. 

Suddenly he hears Scott’s breath hitch slightly. It is a new sound and it catches Stiles’ attention. He pauses in his texting, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He feels obligated to remain frozen, not making any sudden movements in case he startles Scott. He hears Scott clear his throat, testing for a voice that is so rarely used anymore. 

“You were right.” 

His voice is slightly horse and dull. Stiles is silent, forcing himself to bite down any desire to ask ‘which time’. This is the first time Scott has initiated a conversation in months. Stiles holds his breath and looks over at Scott. The werewolf still staring up at the ceiling and to anyone that had only seen him once or twice recently, he would seem the same. But Stiles knows his best friend. He recognizes the slight shift in tension between his shoulders. The throat that is a little more tight than usual, fighting back an army of tears that have been battling him for months. There is a hint of a broken soul peeking out behind Scott’s dead eyes. While Stiles doesn’t rejoice over his broken best friend, this is the most progress he has seen in months. He is about to finally speak, to try and offer some kind of prompt given that Scott seems to have forgotten that he himself had spoken in the first place. But Scott isn’t finished.

 

 “Being alone is way worse.”

 

Stiles stops. Everything within him stops. He flashes back to the last time he said that. He’s surprised he remembers it given the amount of alcohol in his system at the time. But he remembers it. He remembers the look in Scott’s eyes as he tried to imagine a life without Allison. Now he will have to do that all over again. 

Stiles suddenly hates himself for putting those words in Scott’s mind. Back then he had no clue what he was talking about. He had been slightly jealous of Scott for having a girlfriend in the first place. He hadn’t meant it. Now the words of past-Stiles have so much more weight and Stiles wishes he could take it all back. He chances a look over at Scott, racking his brains for anything to say that might lighten Scott’s heavy soul.

 His eyes take in Scott’s position on the bed and it’s like the nogitsune is twisting a knife into his own heart now. Stiles had just assumed that Scott was staring at the ceiling as he always did. But looking closer again he realises that Scott was clutching his phone. Stiles twists his body up, edging closer to the numb boy only metres away. He sees the phone. He sees the contact list open. He sees whose name is currently selected. 

The photo assigned to her number lights up and the brightness of her smile is a little hard to look at in contrast to the dark room. Her eyes shine with happiness and Stiles feels a pang in his heart as he realises how little he saw her smile in the weeks before she was taken from them. She was gone too soon, before she was able to smile properly again. The nogitsune took her last breath before things were allowed to get better. She never got to see the light at the end of the seemingly doomed tunnel. She will never get to witness their eventual victory. They’ll never again see that smile spreading on her lips as they defeat the dark forces against them. The wide smile on the caller ID makes Stiles wonder if she’s smiling somewhere now.

 Stiles, refusing to let himself drown in his own thoughts right now, lifts his head to look at Scott and takes in the grief finally allowing itself to be etched across the werewolf’s face. There are no tears yet but they aren’t far away. 

 After a long pause Stiles eases his lanky limbs onto the bed next to Scott, shifting across so there is virtually no space between them. The feeling of contact between their thighs seems to nudge something inside Scott, a reminder of life that still exists, and Stiles feels a small sigh escape his own chest as he feels some of the tension ebbing out of Scott’s body.

 Finally he finds the words to say. They are words he has said before, and he will say them again. Because those words remain always true. They are the words that get these two brothers through it all. If Scott is going to remember anything he says, it should be these words. 

 “Scott, you’re not alone. You’ve still got me.”

It’s not some world winning speech. It’s not going to fix everything. It’s kind of cheesy, His words can never bring back Allison. Nothing can fix this. But he thinks that his words just might ease the pain in Scott’s heart a little and that’s all he wants to accomplish right now. 

They don’t say much else after that. Scott seems unable to do anything but stare at his phone, but he seems to have heard Stiles because he squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment before nodding slowly. He doesn’t say anything in reply because is there isn’t much to say.

 He will cry eventually. He will break down in the middle of a long awaited Star Wars marathon with Stiles and Isaac. He will break down at the most ridiculous moment and he will struggle to stop. But Stiles and Isaac will be there for him. They will cry with him and they will cry for him. They will cry for Allison and everything she will never be.

 But for now Stiles and Scott sit in silence, Allison’s smiling face looking back up at them from Scott’s phone. Scott turns his phone off after a while and hands it to Stiles without a word. 

 “You’ve still got me.” 

Stiles repeats his own words softly as Scott takes a long breath, a ghost of a smile appearing on the corners of his lips at the memory of the last time he heard those words. They sit there, side by side. Stiles waits patiently for his best friend to come back to him.

 

Scott may still be numb but he is not alone. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing from Stiles POV so hopefully it wasn't too awful! I really wanted to write something about Scott grieving for Allison but I think it was just too painful so soon after the episode so instead this story came out. Hope you enjoyed! Come cry with me over allison at allisonangelmccall.tumblr.com if you so wish :)


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